


Always

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Derek's In Therapy, Hand Jobs, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Post Break-up, Public Hand Jobs, Smut, Stiles only thinks about it, There is a mention of Stiles making out with someone earlier, and wonders where the guy went, but it is never shown, he's working on it, that's all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2018-07-25 12:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7533607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is trying to get over Derek, but that's a hard thing to accomplish, especially when the man himself seems to keep popping up everywhere to fry Stiles' brain and make it hard to think properly.</p><p>But this time, their encounter might just end differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

Stiles never saw Derek in the club, but he knew he was there a good ten seconds before he felt his presence behind him.

Stiles tightened his lips and looked down from the second floor railing to try and find the body of the guy who he had been dancing with and then had come up here and made out with before the guy had offered to get them more drinks, a twinkle of promise in his eyes. 

He didn’t have time for Derek’s bullshit, and Stiles knew that he had to move now before Derek got too close and Stiles lost the ability to think clearly. 

Stiles huffed, not daring to turn around and look to see if Derek was truly there, and started to move back and away from the railing. 

“Not so fast,” Derek’s voice sounded in Stiles’ ear, and then Stiles was being pushed against the railing, surrounded by Derek’s body, and Stiles cursed himself for not being fast enough, for letting that little part of him that had wanted Derek to stop him to win out in the end. 

The music was pounding down below, drifting up into the second floor balcony, and bodies filled the floor below, gyrating, swaying against each other, all lost in mindless dance with most of them - if not all - drunk off their asses. 

Stiles didn’t remember that guys name, but he still tried to search for his red head - he had looked the opposite of Derek in every way, and that’s why Stiles had walked up to him and asked to dance with him. 

“Looking for someone?” Derek said, his voice low, almost dangerous sounding as his breath fanned against Stiles’ neck. 

“Yes, in fact,” Stiles ground out, tightening his hands on the balcony railing, gasping softly when Derek pressed all the more closer, his hands coming to rest beside Stiles’ on the railing. Of course Derek was hard in his pants, and Stiles felt it pressing against his ass. He knew that feeling all too well. 

Stiles swallowed past the lump in his throat. 

“The redhead?” Derek said, his lips moving to caress the shell of Stiles’ ear. Stiles’ eyelids started to droop, his breathing started to stutter and quicken as Derek’s smell, the feel of him infiltrated his senses. “He’s not really your type.”

“I don’t have a type, I’ll take whoever’s interested,” Stiles snapped out, tensing, trying to fight the sensations Derek’s mere presence evoked in him. 

Derek chuckled, the sound warm and honey-like in Stiles’ ear, causing him to shiver. Damn it. “Liar,” Derek murmured, moving his right hand from the railing and bringing it to Stiles’ t-shirt clad stomach. Stiles inhaled sharply. 

Where was that guy? Mark or Matt or…something with an M that Stiles couldn’t remember. “We both know I’m your only type.”

Stiles snorted. “So sure, so arrogant, aren’t you, Derek?”

“I wouldn’t be if I didn’t know it was the truth,” Derek said, and then Derek’s hand was slipping under Stiles’ shirt, caressing his stomach, and Stiles had to bite back a curse even as he couldn’t stop himself from falling back into Derek’s embrace, his eyes falling closed.

“You ca-can’t keep doing this, Derek,” Stiles whispered, feeling his face heat up as Derek’s fingers dragged against his stomach, over his happy trail, to his right hip and then back to his stomach. Fuck. 

“Why not?” Derek murmured. “You know you love it.” 

“I’ll always be attracted to you, you asshole, and you know that,” Stiles snapped, eyes opening to look out at the mob of dancers bellow. He couldn’t let himself turn to look at Derek yet, and hated himself for that. Because he knew how easily he would give in if he saw Derek’s face, if he looked into his striking eyes. “But we aren’t together, not anymore. And I don’t love-”

“Lie,” Derek cut him off, voice biting as he moved his hand off of Stiles’ stomach, grabbing his brown locks and tilting his head back onto his shoulder. Stiles closed his eyes again, breathing shakily as Derek started to kiss down his neck, then up. “Stop trying to lie to me, Stiles.”

“I’m not-”

“Another lie,” Derek tsk’d, tightening his hold on Stiles hair and making him gasp. Not in pain, but in pleasure. Damn him. “Look, Stiles, you know I’d back off if you told me to, right?”

“I know,” Stiles swallowed, shivered as Derek’s lips traveled from his neck to his ear, to the corner of his lips, so close to kissing him, his lips right there-

“So why don’t you tell me to stop, Stiles,” Derek said, and all of the sudden his hands were gone, his body, and Stiles lurched forward and had to tighten his hold on the railing as he swayed where he stood. Stiles felt cold where Derek’s body heat had been, where his touch had been. “Tell me stop, and I’ll leave right now.” 

Derek was letting Stiles have a choice, and was making sure he was clear headed when he made it. Derek had always been like that, had always made sure that the consent was clear between them. It was one of millions of reasons Stiles was hopelessly in love with him. 

“Tell me, Stiles.”

“I-” Stiles swallowed, closed his eyes once more. He was screaming at himself to say no, to ask Derek to leave and let him forget with another body, someone who wasn’t Derek, but even as the words were on the tip of his tongue, he was saying “-can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” Derek said, and Stiles sighed. 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Stiles said, cursing his inability to ever say no to Derek Hale. 

“You don’t?” Derek said, and his voice sounded right next to Stiles’ ear again, but he still wasn’t touching. 

“No,” Stiles swallowed.

“You want me to touch you, Stiles?” 

Stiles let out a shaky breath. “Yes. Fuck, okay, is that what you want to hear, asshole? Yes!”

“Maybe,” Derek chuckled, and there he was again, grinding his erection into Stiles’ ass, hands holding Stiles close, lips against his neck, nipping, sucking, licking. Stiles felt the heat flush his face all over again, felt his pulse start to go wild. 

“Fuck you,” Stiles spat, even as arched into Derek’s touch.

“Hmm,” Derek murmured. “I wonder where your friend went? Should have been back by now,” Derek said, and Stiles heard the amusement in his voice.

“You asshole, you did something,” Stiles said through gritted teeth.

“You can’t prove anything,” Derek said, and Stiles lifted his leg with the intention of kicking Derek, hard, when Derek wrapped his goddamn leg around his, stopping his movement. The rail was digging into Stiles’ stomach as the momentum of the move made them lean forward. “How about we don’t maim each other today?”

“How about you go fuck yourself,” Stiles said.

“Hmm, I’d rather fuck you,” Derek said, and then he unwound his leg from Stiles’ even as he was standing them up straight, hands going to the button and zipper on Stiles’ tight, dark blue jeans. 

“You’re doing this right here?” Stiles hissed, looking around frantically, only to see everyone else on the balcony either kissing or doing some sexual activity of their own. Everyone down below was too busy dancing, flirting, kissing or drinking to even think to look up and see Derek giving him a hand job. 

“No one cares,” Derek pointed out, and then Derek was wrapping his left arm around Stiles’ stomach as his right hand plunged into his underwear, taking him in his hand. Stiles gasped and then groaned, bucking into Derek’s hand as he bit his lip, head falling onto Derek’s shoulder again. 

“Fuck,” Stiles breathed, and then Derek was kissing him. The kiss was wild, messy, wet, and Stiles lifted his arm to grab the hair at the back of Derek’s head, holding on for dear life as Derek stroked his tongue against Stiles’ in time with his strokes to Stiles’ cock. 

Derek knew just what Stiles liked. How soft to grip him, how fast to move his strokes, just how to stroke him, when to pause to drive Stiles even crazier, when to stroke his thumb around the tip, smearing Stiles pre-come all around. 

Stiles’ stomach quivered, his balls tightened as the feel of Derek’s hand on him drove him wild, as Derek’s kiss drove him to insanity. 

“Mmm,” Stiles groaned into Derek’s mouth, jerking against Derek’s hand. He moaned louder, even whimpered as he got closer and closer and Derek destroyed him with just one hand and his lips. 

“I h-hate you,” Stiles whispered as they finally broke away from the kiss, and Stiles felt his heart squeeze painfully even as it pounded like crazy in his chest. 

“Another lie,” Derek whispered, and Stiles forced himself to open his eyes, to look into Derek’s green eyes as they watched him. 

Goddamn him, Stiles thought, moving forward and biting Derek on his lower lip, causing Derek to hiss in slight pain - but then he was just crushing his mouth against Stiles’ once more and Stiles was wiggling against Derek as he orgasm neared, arching forward and then back into Derek’s erection, even rubbing up and down on it and causing Derek to moan. 

“I’m-I’m-” Stiles gasped, felt his orgasm start to pool in his stomach, felt his leg kicking out against the railing, cursed as he felt slight pain in his big toe. Derek was the only thing holding Stiles up as Stiles gasped out, “I’m coming!”

Derek grunted and then pushed Stiles’ jeans and underwear down just enough to free his cock, and Stiles bucked backward, away from where anyone could see, even as he just wanted to let go, mindless. But then Derek was crushing him against the railing again, his cheek right against Stiles’, and then he was whispering, “come for me,” and Stiles moaned loudly as he let go.

He laughed giddily when he saw his come flying and then falling in the air, landing somewhere down on the dance floor, somewhere away from dancing bodies, thankfully. 

When Stiles was finally spent, Derek tucked him back into his pants, zipped and buttoned him up. 

“Derek,” Stiles whispered minutes later, body slumped back against Derek’s, cheeks flushed, sweat resting on his brow. 

Derek hummed against Stiles’ neck.

“You should go,” Stiles swallowed, looking down at the dance floor so he didn’t have to look at Derek. 

He heard Derek sigh. 

“Do you _want_ me to go?” 

Stiles stayed silent, knowing that if he answered ‘yes’ that it would be another lie. 

“Do you still want me, Stiles?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles whispered, swallowed heavily. He was still shaking from his orgasm, still needed Derek to hold him up. 

“Do you still love me?” Derek clarified. 

Stiles felt tears in his eyes. “I’ll always love you, Derek.” 

“Then why aren’t we together?” Derek murmured. 

Stiles grit his teeth, forced himself to not let the tears fall. “You know why.”

“Not really,” Derek said. 

“You don’t know how to be in a healthy relationship, Derek,” Stiles said, and then winced at the bluntness of his statement. 

That caused Derek’s hands to fall from him, and Stiles shivered at the loss of them. 

“You didn’t even let me try-”

“I gave you every chance to try,” Stiles said. 

“Look…” Derek said, and Stiles finally, finally, turned around to look at Derek. Stiles leaned back against the railing, staying quiet and letting Derek speak. “I’ve been seeing a therapist,” Derek murmured, and Stiles looked up, eyes wide. 

Stiles had suggested it several times in their two-year relationship, but Derek had refused, had said he didn’t need therapy, and Stiles had disagreed. It had caused a lot of fights and tension between them. 

“I’m…I’m not all the way…there,” Derek said, looking awkward and uncomfortable, folding his arms across his chest. Stiles blinked rapidly, heart pounding in his chest as Derek’s words sunk in. Stiles felt something like hope soar through him. “But I’m getting there. I swear, I’m working on it.”

“Why didn’t you just lead with this?” Stiles laughed shakily, although it wasn’t funny at all. 

“I wasn’t going to tell you…yet.” 

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to be at a good place when I told you. I wanted to get the okay from my therapist to be in a romantic relationship and then go to you and…”

“Tell me and then we’d get back together?” Stiles finished, feeling a pang in his chest.

Derek nodded. 

“Well…” Stiles let out a shaky breath. “How about you get yourself healed and then you look me up when you’re ready.”

Derek smiled softly in response, and Stiles felt himself melt, his heart practically doing the samba in his chest. 

“I think…I think I’d like that.” 

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, smiled as he looked down, bit his lip as he felt stupid butterflies in his stomach. 

“And if you find someone before then-”

“I won’t,” Stiles shook his head, looked up to meet Derek’s eyes once more. “You know that.”

“But if you do-”

“I will,” Stiles nodded.

Derek nodded, and then he moved forward, cupped Stiles’ cheek and kissed him. Stiles’ lips were tingling when Derek pulled away, and then Derek nodded at him and then backed up before turning and leaving the balcony, leaving Stiles alone. 

Stiles slumped against the railing, letting his head hang low as he tried to get his heart to calm down. 

Then Stiles breathed in deeply, let it out, and looked to everyone around him, at the people below him on the dance floor, tried to remember that guy from earlier, but all he could remember was red hair, and that was it. 

Now that there was a promise of someday, of soon, of a definitive outlook between Stiles and Derek, Stiles had no interest in any of these people around him. 

Derek was trying, he was doing his part to strengthen their relationship, and so Stiles would do his part, and wait. 

And the day Derek was ready, Stiles would be there.


End file.
